


Snowstorm

by ImaginaryNumber



Category: Burn Notice, Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaginaryNumber/pseuds/ImaginaryNumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The library is compromised. The machine might be in danger. The key to everything that's happening seems to be a data disk Michael Westen brings to New York. With Agent Snow hot on their trails, Reese and Westen have to work together to figure out what's going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowstorm

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, and I'm not making any money off of them.
> 
> Spoilers: Takes place between the beginning and middle of season 2 of POI, and somewhere in season 5 of Burn Notice. We're on POI's turf, and you can probably follow the story pretty well even without knowing too much about Burn Notice. The story will make most sense if you've seen POI S2E13, but it takes place before the events shown there.
> 
> Author's Note: Everything is within canon for both shows. It may not seem like it from the summary, but I promise to return them to the condition I found them in! I aim to have all the characters stay true to how they are depicted in the respective shows. I'm exploring mostly the interactions between Finch, Reese, Westen and Glenanne. Carter, Fusco and Axe get a little bit of action, Bear and Madeline Westen appear briefly. Snow and Stanton are the bad guy/gal of course, but everything is explored from the other characters' points of view. It is implied that the Machine, while not saying much, is watching everything and may be pulling some strings in the background. Two original characters have minor roles.

 

**Chapter 1: The library is compromised**

 

**** Tuesday 7:25am**

John Reese walked toward the library in swift steps with a box of mixed doughnuts under his left arm. The morning sunlight reflected brightly from the building's windows and he was reaching for his shades when his cell phone rang. He pulled out the phone instead.

"Hi Finch. Can't wait to talk to me this morning?"

"John, do not go to the library. Turn around right now and meet me at the park, you know which one, in 40 minutes." The agitation in Finch's voice was hard to miss.

"Harold, what's going on?" Reese was inclined not to read too much into his employer's obviously unsettled state of mind, since the man sometimes got worked up over trivial things.

"Please just do as I say. And lose the phone. I'll explain there."

Reese looked at his phone, the line now disconnected. He tried to convince himself that Finch was over-reacting to something, yet he could feel the adrenaline flooding his body and his heartbeat quickened. In less than a second he went into high alert mode and just as quickly he turned his facial expression into a well-practiced mask.

He turned the next corner, away from the library, while resetting the phone, then lost the phone in the nearest storm drain without anyone noticing.

.

**** Tuesday 8:05am**

Reese spotted Finch on the park bench from afar. Bear sat next to him idly watching the ducks drift along the lakeshore. Reese scrutinized the area while he approached the man and dog. The sun was still shining brightly and a light breeze played with the leaves of the nearby birch trees. There were no other people, and no vehicles of any kind. The serene scene was at odds with Reese's state of mind and it bothered him unreasonably.

Bear noticed Reese and his tail started to wag as he got up and turned toward his other human. Finch, alerted by the dog, looked up from the laptop balanced on his knees, while turning his stiff torso in the direction the dog was facing. He was relieved to see that the figure approaching him with deliberate, calm steps was his partner.

"Finch, what's going on?" Reese petted Bear on the head before sitting down next to Finch. Finch handed him a new cell phone.

"The library has been compromised." Finch looked sideways to observe his partner's reaction.

"Compromised? How?" Reese asked - incredulous rather because he did not want what he had just been told to be true and not because it was an unlikely think to have happened. The library was only a place, and the distress he felt at losing it seemed undue, yet he could not help feeling like he was set adrift again, betrayed in some way.

"I don't know _how_ exactly, yet." Finch turned to face straight ahead, looking nowhere in particular across the deep blue lake.

"You may remember that I updated the security systems around the library after the Root incident." He turned once more to see if Reese remembered. Reese offered a small nod and Finch turned to face the water again.

"I programmed an algorithm not unlike one the Machine has. You know, back then it took a server the size of a closet, now any high-end computer system can run the analysis in reasonable time." Finch noticed Reese turning and giving him a look.

"Anyway, it identifies and catalogues everyone recorded on camera within two blocks of the library, assigning a higher threat-level to a person the closer they come to the library, and the more often. If there is a harmless reason for a person to frequently come close to the library - say they pass by on their way to work - the level of threat assigned to them is reduced."

"Finch, cut to the chase!" 

"It came up with the faces of two people with, let's say, _interesting_ background checks." Finch held up the laptop with the two pictures on the screen.

"It looks like they started surveilling the library yesterday around 4:30pm. Early this morning, while I was walking Bear, this one,” he pointed a finger at the photo of the dark haired male, "broke into the library!" Finch was appalled and indignant.

"And to make matters worse, I haven't been able to find out anything about that man. Mind you I'm working with limited resources here,” with that he motioned a hand at the laptop on his knees, "but it does confirm my fears about the gravity of the situation."

"Now, the woman .. what?" Reese had a strange look on his face, not at all what Finch had expected.

"The man's name is Michael Westen." Reese said as Finch turned his torso toward him.

"You know him?" Finch raised an eyebrow.

"Try the CIA personnel files." Reese looked away. His past catching up to him. Again. Finch was somewhat relieved. They were not up against an unknown enemy now. They had handled the CIA before. They barely got out alive then, but at least they knew who was after them, and knowledge was power.

"An old friend of yours?" Finch let the little bit of relief he felt show through by the teasing tone of his question.

"Not really. I know him by reputation. He's supposed to be one of the best."

"How did he find us?"

"I guess he lives up to his reputation,” Reese said, growing impatient with his employer's questions.

"Well, what do you think he wants?”

Reese said, no emotion in his voice, ”he probably has orders to kill us, or me. The woman must be his partner."

"I rather don't think so!"

"Oh?"

"She seems to have been involved in the IRA as an explosives specialist and more recently, has pursued a career in arms smuggling. Her name, unless someone made up a very convincing fake online footprint, is Fiona Glenanne. She seems to do the name justice, too. Wherever she goes, things seem to get blown up."

"The footage sure makes it look like they are working together. She might have been undercover, or maybe the CIA turned her. Did they get into your computer system?"

"Of course not!”

"If Westen didn't, the techs from the CIA will be at it soon."

"There'll be nothing there for them to find. I remotely destroyed the hard drives in all the library computers. It doesn't seem like anyone has tried to gain access to the building since Mr. Westen left though."

Reese nodded. As inept as Finch could appear when confronted with an unexpected situation, he seemed to end up doing the smart thing anyway. It did not hurt that he was always so well prepared.

"They are probably waiting for me to come back there, to catch me. Even if I don't show up, my fingerprints are all over the library. They'll know they came to the right place, and they'll know I'm not working alone. They have the board with the numbers, and all the tech and weapons. They will try to find out what I've been up to, which will bring them to you." Reese paused and finally whispered: "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, John. I knew perfectly well the risks that came with hiring you."

Reese had a pained look on his face, and Finch wished there was something he could say to stop his friend from feeling responsible for the situation they found themselves in. Reese adjusted his mood though and spoke before Finch could think of something.

"We should find a place to set up provisional headquarters. It is probably safest to consider all our existing safe-houses burned."

"I've been on that already. I found us a cottage-like place just outside the city. Not far from here actually." Finch brought up the picture of a secluded looking house, and an address, on the computer screen. Reese memorized the address automatically. "I also set up the warning sign for our detectives. They should have seen it by now, and know to destroy their phones and not try to contact us."

"Good." Reese got up. "You go set up the new safe-house. Keep in touch." With that Reese put the earwig into his ear.

"Where are _you_ going?" Finch closed the laptop, tucked it under his arm then struggled to his feet. Holding Bear's leash in the other hand, he took after Reese.

"I'm going to take care of this situation."

"And your plan is what? Get yourself shot again?"

"No. The plan is to get the other guy shot."

Finch looked appalled.

Reese's face had become hard as he turned to look at Finch. Arguing with him would be futile now, so Finch said nothing more. Instead he watched his employee's retreating figure for a few moments then looked at the dog by his side. Bear returned a puzzled look.

 

 

**Chapter 2: Two spies meet**

 

**** Tuesday, 10:08am**

Finch finished setting up a what he considered minimally-functional computer system in the living room of the new house and immediately went to work getting everything he could on Michael Westen from the CIA servers. Reese called in soon after.

"Finch, I've been watching the library. No sign of the CIA so far. The only thing out of the ordinary is an exterminator's truck parked in front of the office building across from the library. Have you found out anything?"

"I did so. You and Mr. Westen seem to have had a rather similar career path. Westen has been in some trouble the past couple of years. He was burned by the agency, though he recently got back in. Whatever he's doing here, though, doesn't seem to be official CIA business. I cannot find anything indicating he's currently on assignment."

"That might not mean anything. The CIA's operations are not always on the books. Anything else?"

"Indeed, it appears your observation skills have not waned. Westen and Glenanne are spying on the library from the second floor insurance office in the building you mentioned. One of my cameras picked them up through the window just minutes ago."

"Thanks. I'll go check it out."

.

**** The previous day.**

**Monday 4:38pm**

"Fiona, anything at your address?"

Fiona fondled the geranium in front of her. Its leaves emitted a cloud of fragrance.

"There's nothing here Michael. It's a flower shop. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. How come you never buy me flowers?"

"Mine looks somewhat promising. It's a large building that seems to be under construction, however, there are no construction workers around. I'm going to watch the building for a while."

"Well, I'm going back to the hotel. If you want me, I'll be at the hotel spa, where a nice young man will take care of these sore feet for me."

"You have at least three more addresses to check out."

"I've been checking out addresses all day. You know, this is NOT my idea of a romantic trip to the Big Apple!"

"Consider it a special kind of sight-seeing. You get to see parts of the city you never would otherwise."

"Yeah well, they're not parts of the city I care to see. And I'm done sight-seeing for today. See you back at the hotel."

Glenanne hung up the phone. Westen looked just like any other 9-5 office worker as he circled the block, passing by the library each time. He made note of possible entrances, hiding spots, and exit routes. On his fourth trip around, he caught sight of Glenanne standing at the street corner. He smiled at her.

"You owe me some roses."

He was happy to see her but did not show it and ignored her statement.

"I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary yet, but I got a feeling about this place. It's the most promising one I've seen all day."

"Well a guy with a large dog just entered that building."

He had been walking the streets for 30 minutes, but of course it was Glenanne who found something interesting, and she could not have been there for more than 5 minutes.

"What did he look like?"

"Around 5 ft 8", glasses, short dark hair, 55-60, expensive suit, walked with a limp. I'd be more worried about the dog."

"The dog?"

"Yeah, large dog, the kind they use in the military."

"Let's find a perch and keep an eye on the place."

"I guess that means you're not taking me to a romantic restaurant." Glenanne said, half pout and half tease.

.

**** Monday 6:30am**

Glenanne elbowed Westen.

"Wake up, sleepy-head."

A moment of sleepiness dissipated quickly and Westen was wide awake.

"There."

Glenanne pointed at the limping man approaching the library. He disappeared into the building, and reappeared not 5 minutes later with a dog by his side.

"That's my chance. Let me know when they are coming back." Westen said and got out of the van, then entered the library the same way Finch had. The lock on the gate was not much of an obstacle, and he slowly made his way up the stairs. He followed the path of least dust which led him to Finch's computer station.

The computer system was password protected, our course. He took pictures of the board with the numbers, photographs and newspaper clippings. He could not help but feel like he was being watched, but he could spot no cameras, and he was fairly certain he was alone in the building.

He had to admit that the place had style. Whatever the person he was after was doing here, it was quite the work space. The neglected building and piles of jumbled books gave it a sense of despair. You could sense the glorious past, now lost. The items that were obviously in use - the computers, the chairs, table, board, some food items - were strictly utilitarian. Except for the things that belonged to the dog, they were nicer than necessary. Yet these things were framed by this once extravagant building, with the stained glass windows and ornamented shelfs. The spartan and the grandiose standing in such stark contrast; if the building was in better shape, it would be absurd.

He left the library and joined Glenanne in the van again.

"I want to keep an eye on the place and figure out exactly what's going on there."

"You're sure it's the right place?" she asked.

Westen showed her the picture on his phone of the board with the social insurance numbers.

"Looks like we found it." she said and handed him an exterminator's uniform.

.

**** Tuesday 10:15am**

Reese entered the building opposite the library and took the stairs up to the second floor. One of the offices was closed, with a sign on the door indicating it was being treated for a bug infestation. A ruse of course. As he was leaning against the wall next to the door to the office suite, weapon drawn, he could not help feeling like something was not quite right.

Reese had expected to see some kind of CIA activity around the library. Spotters, snipers, unmarked vans. Would they send just a spy, regardless of how good he might be, after him, aided by an ex-terrorist? Another spy who worked for a section of the CIA unrelated to Reese's previous work, and not the one that takes care of "internal problems". And an explosives specialist. In no way was that standard procedure.

He heard footsteps from beyond the insurance offices' doors and backed up through the stairway doors. He reached the landing of the 3rd floor just as Fiona Glenanne came storming through the doors and disappeared down the stairway. She was visibly upset. Getting upset and demonstrating it this way could get you killed in the field. The situation seemed stranger by the minute.

Reese pondered his options. He had Westen right here, right now, alone. Westen might be good, but so was he, and Westen could be distraught and thus distracted, following whatever argument he had just had with his partner. Whatever was going on, Westen was the key.

Reese moved down the stairs, through the doors and along the wall towards the office suite. He tested the door. It was open, so he snuck in, closing the door without making a sound. The reception area was sterile-looking, the small fern on the counter notwithstanding. His shoes made no sound on the beige linoleum floor as he approached the room where Westen was leaning on the window sill, binoculars trained on the street.

Reese cocked his gun and the other man's hands fell to his sides, the right one still holding the binoculars.

"Turn around very slowly."

As Westen obeyed the command, Reese could not help but think that Finch would approve of Westen's suit.

"John Reese." Westen's face was expressionless.

"Michael Westen." Reese mirrored the non-expression of Westen's face.

 

 

**Chapter 3: The disk**

 

"You know, I considered just shooting you and being done with it. But shooting people always makes such a mess, and I admit to being curious. Why are you here?"

"Oh you know, I happened to be in town and the agency thought I could take care of this small personnel problem for them, while I was here."

"I hear you've been somewhat of a persona non grata at the agency yourself. If they sent you after me, they must considers you quite expendable."

Westen smiled. "We are all expendable."

It was weirdly comforting for Reese to talk to someone not unlike him. Someone who _understood_.

"Some more so than others. However, I don't think the agency sent you."

"Mr. Reese?” an agitated voice sounded in Reese's ear.

He tapped his ear.

"I'm a little busy right now, Finch."

"I'm aware, however, I think the machine just gave me Fiona Glenanne's number! I'm assuming that means someone other than you is after her, or she's about to hurt someone."

"You _think_?" Reese put too much emphasis on the last word.

"Yes, well, the machine didn't use the ... usual channel ... to convey the number to me. It makes me think the situation is urgent."

"I'll see what I can do, Finch."

Reese never took his eyes off Westen, and Westen in turn followed Reese's side of the conversation with intense interest. The two men looked at each other, none saying a word, each trying to gauge the other. Westen finally spoke first.

"Finch. Harold Finch. You work _with_ Harold Finch?" Reese suppressed a frown. He thought he detected Westen relaxing a wee bit.

"How do you know Harold Finch?" Reese asked.

"I don't, I mean, we've never met. And you were right earlier. I'm not here on the agency's behest."

"Explain."

"Why don't you put down the gun and we'll talk about it over a cup of coffee?" Westen put on his most well-practiced harmless-guy face.

"Why don't _you_ tell me about your partner, and what she's doing right now?"

It was Finch who answered. "I can tell you what she's doing right now, she just entered the building again."

Reese looked around the room, then pulled the power cord from a lamp and threw it over to Westen.

"Tie yourself up. Nice and tight."

Westen complied, as best as he could, using his teeth to hold the cord. Reese went over to him then to make sure the restraints were tight.

Just that moment, Glenanne's voice entered the room from the hall, immediately followed by the person.

"Michael, we have to leave NOW. We've been ma..." The sight of the gun pointed at her made her stop in mid-sentence and mid-stride. She instinctively raised her arms and the expression on her face left no doubt about how annoyed she was by this.

"Fiona, please meet John. John. Fiona." Westen made a point of mock-introducing the two.

Fiona addressed John, contempt and defiance in her voice. "Whatever you and your friend Snow plan to do to us, you won't get the disk."

Reese looked from her, to Westen and back to her.

"Snow?"

"Your buddy with the hit team outside ..." The contempt was still strong in Glenanne's voice, but waned as she saw the confused look on Reese's face.

"Fi, I don't think he's working with Snow. In fact I think we're all on the same side here."

"John, several men just entered the office building and they are doing a bad job of concealing their weapons." The agitated voice in his ear informed him. "One of them is Agent Snow!"

Reese made a split second decision. He undid Westen's ties.

Fiona pulled her handgun out of her purse and addressed the two men. "This is all I got, all our other weapons are in the car."

"I don't think we'll be able to shoot our way out of this, Fi,” said Westen, and Reese silently agreed. Fiona made a show of pouting. The three of them moved towards the hallway, Westen and Glenanne running point. Reese tapped his ear.

"Finch, we need a way out of here, do you have eyes on the hit team?"

Glenanne whispered to Westen. "Finch? He's talking to Harold Finch!?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Go to the left and to the end of the hall. The door at the right,” Reese commanded. They all put away their weapons as they entered the door leading to a dentist's office. Over the protests of the receptionist, they made their way to the back room, where they escaped through the window and down the fire escape. The man guarding the back of the building would wake up in the hospital, if at all. Reese took the opportunity to try out the new fingerprint scanning app on his phone.

Reese kept a grip on his gun, sitting in the back seat of the rental car Glenanne was driving, as they were speeding off. Glenanne seemed to enjoy breaking the speed limits. They were heading out of the city.

"Uhh, where are we going?" Reese asked Glenanne.

"Away."

Reese looked at Westen, searching for a more wordy answer to his question. None was forthcoming.

"Finch and I have a safe house not far from here." He started giving Glenanne directions. He was surprised when she shrugged and actually started following the directions he gave, in a driving style that was less likely to get police attention.

"So we're trusting them now, are we?" Finch said over the ear piece.

"It's just a safe house Finch. And I'm in the car with the people we thought had compromised our operation."

"You're in the car with a burned spy and a terrorist!"

"Who's apparently our new number." Reese whispered. He then added in a louder voice: "I'm sending you fingerprints from one of the people who attacked us, see what you can find out?"

.

**** 11:03 am**

Westen and Reese did a perimeter check around the safe house, which was in a quiet suburban neighbourhood, while Glenanne cleared the inside. They all convened in the tastefully furnished living room, and simultaneously drew their handguns at the sound of a key in the front door lock.

Finch froze just inside the door. Three guns were pointed at him. He was sure he would get used to this kind of thing, eventually.

Reese recognized his partner and lowered his gun, but was ready to point it at his new friends, should they make a wrong move.

"Hi Finch. Come to join the party?" Reese asked, hoping to hide his chagrin in sarcasm. He had wanted to vet the two operatives before letting them anywhere near Finch.

Finch forced himself to take a step inside and closed the door. Westen and Glenanne slowly lowered their guns.

"Harold Finch. So nice to finally meet you." Westen's face featured that fake beaming smile again. Finch regarded the burglar and his partner for a moment, noting how naturally those two well-dressed individuals fit in with the high-priced decor of the house.

"Should I know you?" He asked as he limped into the living room and came to a stop next to Reese.

"No, but we've been looking for you for a while now."

Finch found that hard to believe and looked at Glenanne.

"Don't look at me! I was going to destroy the disk, but _he_ " she nodded toward Westen "had to do the 'right thing’," she said and made herself comfortable on the beautiful black leather sofa. She did not seem interested in being a part of the conversation.

"What is Ms. Glenanne talking about?" Finch addressed Westen.

Westen opened the rucksack he had brought in from the car. Reese raised his gun at him. Glenanne did not raise hers in response, as he had expected her to, but just rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Westen turned the rucksack to reveal that it contained no weapon of any kind. Then he pulled out a CD from a secret compartment. He handed it to Finch, and Reese put away his gun.

"What's on the disk?" Reese asked.

"I haven't got a clue."

Both Reese and Finch raised an eyebrow. Finch started toward the desk at the side of the room and put the disk in the computer there.

 

 

**Chapter 4: Two spies get to know each other**

 

"Okay, so where did the disk come from?" Reese pressed.

Westen looked over at Finch and then at Reese. He had payed close attention to their interaction and it seemed they really were working together. More than that, they seemed to be friends. He had not expected having to deal with another trained agent and cautiously began his story.

"Six years ago, I got burned by the CIA. I had not done anything wrong; it was a set-up. I eventually found out that a large international criminal organization had me burned so they could recruit me to work for them. That did not go so well for them. Since getting back with the agency, I have been hunting down that organization's employees. They have people high up in our government, and in a number of telecommunication businesses.

I found the disk at the offices of one of those businesses. It was well guarded, it obviously contained information they didn't want anyone to have. Naturally, I took it. My usual contacts have not been able to decrypt the contents.

The circumstances around us finding this disk were ... unusual. It started with the way we learned about that particular company's involvement with the people who burned me. That information suddenly appeared in an intelligence report, and I have not been able to find out who put it there."

Finch stopped typing and looked up from the computer. Westen studied him for a moment, but saw only surprise in Finch's expression. Not what he had anticipated. He continued.

"Once I had the disk, public phones started ringing as I came near them. When I picked up, I heard a set of words in dissimilar voices. It made no sense to me at the time, though I was sure it was some kind of code."

Westen did not miss the meaningful glances that were exchanged between Finch and Reese.

"You're getting the same codes aren't you? I saw the board in that old library." Getting no response from either Finch or Reese, he continued:

"The words decode to a social security number, but you knew that already. The first number I got was for one Harold Finch. A man who did not seem to exist.

A few days later, I received another social security number, for a guy right in Miami, where I live. I checked on the guy, and it turns out he was about to be killed by some drug dealers who didn't want him to testify against them in court. Next number I got from the pay phone: a woman who was being targeted by her boss. In short, all people who were in trouble.

In the meanwhile, someone was very eager to get their hands on this disk. I identified the people after it as ex-agents Stanton and Snow. I believe you know them."

Westen thought he saw a brief flinch on Reese's face.

"I think they are working for the organization that had me burned." Westen continued.

"You saw Kara Stanton." Reese managed to hide most of the emotions that threatened to come to the surface.

Westen was not sure if it was a question or a statement.

Glenanne, who had seemed less than interested in the conversation so far, had in fact been paying close attention to the reactions of their hosts.

"Oh we more than 'saw' her. Ruined a pair of nice shoes because of her!" she interjected.

Reese did not know what to make of Ms. Glenanne. When they were fleeing Agent Snow's team in the car, the reckless driving reminded him of Kara. So did the way she handled her firearm. But there was something definitely more human about Glenanne. In fact, Glenanne seemed to be the only one in the room who was not making an effort to hide her feelings. He was thankful for the way she lightened the mood with her statement. At the same time the close scrutiny she was subjecting him and Finch to had not escaped him.

Westen continued.

"So anyway, I was forced to re-located the disk. While I was carrying the disk on me, the voices on the public phone gave me the number for Harold Finch again. And again. Damn phones wouldn't stop ringing. I was about to stop answering, when the voices on the public phones gave me a different number of words. Not enough to make a valid social security number. The first set of words decoded to the zip code for New York. I knew Snow had been on assignment in New York recently, so that was a fair guess anyway. The next set of words decoded to what I figured might be a house number. Do you know how many streets there are in New York with that house number?"

"You came here and looked into them all?"

"Yup, ruined another pair of shoes in the process." Glenanne answered.

"When I found the board with the social security numbers in the library, I was certain I had the right place. Guess I was right."

"Alright, so why go to all the trouble of finding Finch and bringing him the disk?" Reese wanted to direct his inquiries towards Stanton, but he just couldn't go there at that moment.

"Several reasons. Someone has been watching my every move and made the calls to all those public phones. The same someone seems to know when people are in trouble. Somehow, that someone is connected to the people who burned me, and to Mr. Finch and you. I'd like to know who it is, how they get their information, and what it has to do with me. I also think, since the other people whose SINs I got were in trouble, Finch here might be as well.

Besides, it's just a little bit inconvenient when you're tailing someone and every phone you come near starts ringing!"

"If you're back in with the CIA, how come they are still after you?" Reese wanted to know.

"What are you talking about?"

"Snow, shooting at us in the office building ... ."

"According to my contacts at the CIA, Snow is M.I.A., just like Stanton. And you. I told you, I think they are working for the organization that had me burned. At first back there I thought you were as well. Hiring disgraced ex-agents is kind of their thing."

"My last run-ins with both Stanton and Snow ended with us exchanging bullets."

"Oh what a couple those two make." Glenanne said merrily.

Westen and Reese both looked at Glenanne who seemed entirely too comfortable on the sofa. Her interjections were tipping this courtship ritual between two ex-operatives off balance. Reese wanted this to irk him, and in his agency days it would have. But now it just underlined the 'ex' in 'ex-operative' and he somewhat appreciated that. He wondered if Westen did.

"Does the CIA know you're here?" asked Reese.

"No, they don't." Westen said cautiously.

Reese nodded.

"So, I told you our story. I think it's your turn."

To Westen's surprise, it was Finch who answered.

"As you have already learned, we get the numbers, too. I can't tell you who sends them, just that they are, as you suspect, always for someone who is going to be involved in a crime, and that they are always right. Mr. Reese here and I try to prevent those crimes."

The soldier in Reese was okay with Finch revealing as much of their side of the story as he saw fit. After all Finch was the boss. The spy in Reese was intensely uncomfortable. He didn't think Finch was aware of the protocols that spies usually followed to figure out what side the other one was one.

"Who do you work for?" Westen asked without expecting an honest answer.

"We don't work for anybody." Finch said with an air of pride.

"You just go around rescuing people because you have nothing better to do?"

"Some people don't need a reason to help another person out." Glenanne addressed Westen. Reese noted that Glenanne seemed very well aware of the proper protocols, but just did not care to play along. He also noted that Glenanne had again tuned into his and Finch's mood and said the right thing, but Westen was not catching on.

"We have our reasons." Reese stated with a tone of voice that warned a perceptive listener not to pursue the matter any further. Westen, being a perceptive listener at least when it came to strangers, decided to let it go for now.

"So, if you're in trouble Mr. Finch, how come your social security number was given to me, and not to - say - Mr. Reese here?" Westen asked.

"I don't think I'm in trouble. I mean, no more than usual. In this case, I believe you were given my number, and the directions to the library, so that you could give me this disk."

"I see. So what's on it?"

"I don't know yet, it has not finished decrypting. However, it must be something extremely important to the entity from whence the numbers originate."

"And, what, you're the only person in a position to do something with the information on the disk?"

"Quite possibly, yes." To Westen's ears, Finch sounded altogether serious and confident.

In reality, Finch was more than a little disconcerted. What could possibly be on this disk that the machine would go to these lengths for to get to him?

Westen was not inclined to believe a word these two men were saying. But as far-fetched as it seemed, everything they had said so far was consistent with what he had seen. Yet they were not forthcoming with information, and he was impatient to find out how all of this related to the people who burned him.

Reese was on guard toward his fellow ex-operative and the guy's ex-IRA friend. Were they telling the truth? If so, the machine must have decided they were trustworthy. If they were not telling the truth, who else could know about the way that Finch and him were receiving the numbers?

Glenanne was not really as annoyed as she made out to be at this whole business that brought them to New York. In fact, she was intrigued. She decided she liked this odd pair of men who were trying so hard not to show their concern, confusion and, she believed, pain, as Westen told them about the messages from the public phones, the agents Snow and Stanton, and the library. Her gut feeling was that their new acquaintances were on the right side.

"So, what now?" Glenanne was tired of the talking. Some action would be good. She did not expect Finch to be the one to take charge.

"I don't have the equipment here to decrypt this disk. I sent the data to a place with more processor power but even so, it will probably be hours before it is done. In the meanwhile we have the fingerprints of one of the men who came after you. I think we'd all be interested to know who we're up against. Mr. Westen," he turned towards the operative "I assume you have access to the resources necessary to find out whose fingerprints those are, so I suggest you make use of those.

My surveillance shows that no one has attempted to gain access to the library since Mr. Westen left there earlier this morning." He gave Westen what could be construed as a dirty look.

"We don't know how much Mr. Snow and Ms. Stanton know about us and our operation, or how likely they are to go snooping around. But there is information about a lot of innocent people at the library. It would be better if that did not fall into the wrong hands. Mr. Reese and I will go retrieve that information. We'll meet back here in four hours."

Finch removed the disk from the computer and put it in his briefcase. Then he removed two cell phones from said briefcase and handed one each to Westen and Glenanne, who looked surprised but did not say anything. After all, mission briefings and the hand-out of equipment were something they had once been accustomed to.

Glenanne jumped up from the sofa.

"Do you boys need a hand?" she asked Finch and Reese. All three men looked at her in surprise.

"Well, Michael can handle the fingerprints by himself." She gave Westen a defiant look.

Finch was inclined to turn down the offer, but it was not like it made much of a difference at this point, and he himself certainly was not going to be much help moving things.

"That would be very much appreciated, Ms. Glenanne,” he said.

Reese had exhausted all the surprise he could muster for the day where it came to Finch and accepted the decision. Westen grudgingly left for their hotel to call his CIA contact, while Finch, Reese and Glenanne took off for the library in Finch's Lincoln. Finch drove and Glenanne was in the backseat.

.

"Were you there when Mr. Westen was given the social security numbers?" Finch asked of Glenanne.

"Sure was."

"What happened to them? I mean the people."

"We, uh, arranged it so that the testimony of that guy was not necessary anymore. And the woman's boss got what was coming to him."

Reese grinned, mostly inwardly.

"If you don't mind my asking, what's the relationship between you and Mr. Westen."

"That, well ... It's complicated."

Finch gave her a puzzled look through the rear view mirror, but Reese had an idea of where this was going.

"He's kind of my boyfriend."

"You both work for the CIA?"

"Hell no!"

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Told you, Michael's my boyfriend. I'm helping him on his quixotic quest to bring down the people who burned him and get back in with his besotted CIA, so he can run off on me again."

Reese stared straight out the windshield avoiding Glenanne's eyes in the mirror. His thoughts drifted to Jessica. He wondered how mad she must have been when he left.

"Yet you stick with him,” Finch spoke again.

"What can I say. When we're not busy going up against powerful secret organizations, we help people. It’s a good life."

"You mean the numbers?"

"Numbers? Oh, no. Well we helped those two. We don't have a whole list of them like you guys do. People in need of our _unique services_ just seem to find us.

So you saved all those people on the board?"

"No, the numbers on the board - those are the people I couldn't save."

"Oh."

The people in the car went silent then, until they arrived at their destination, which in fact was not the library directly, but a small utilities building. Finch conveniently had the key. From there, they entered an old underground tunnel system with a connection to the basement of the library. Before entering the basement, Finch checked his computer finding no unusual activity in or near the library.

 

 

**Chapter 5: The library and the warehouse**

 

Reese and Finch climbed the stairs with glum determination, trailed by Glenanne for whom the place brought back memories of a school she once attended. The air in the library was warm and the aroma of old books was stronger than usual. The sun lit up the main chamber beautifully through the stained glass windows, and it made their task even harder. Finch paused for a moment to mourn his now ruined computer station. Then he started packing up the board of numbers.

Reese addressed Glenanne. "I take it you're comfortable around weapons?"

She took that as a rhetorical question. He led her to the room where his little arsenal was stored and opened some cupboard doors.

"You could pack these up."

Glenanne opened a few more doors and her eyes lit up like a flash grenade. She pulled out the rocket launcher and stroked the barrel.

"A man after my own heart!" she said to Reese, who wasn't sure what to make of her enthusiasm for the weapons, or her statement. He thought it had been a mistake to bring her to the library, even more so now that her demeanour reminded him of Kara again. He directed their attention back to the task at hand.

"Here's a bag."

Glenanne gave the rocket launcher another caress before putting it in the bag, followed by the rockets that went with it. Reese eyed her wearily for a few seconds, then went to find a library book cart and some empty boxes. When he came back to the main chamber, Finch had already made neat stacks of all the papers, pictures and documents he kept there. He started packing them into the boxes.

"Finch?"

"Yes, Mr. Reese?"

Reese mirrored his employer's motions in putting a pile of documents in a box.

"What do you make of all this?"

Finch paused his bustling to look at Reese.

"The machine arranged for Mr. Westen and Ms. Glenanne to bring that disk to us. Whatever is on it must be threatening the machine in some way. I don't see why else it would go to such desperate measures."

"What did you mean before, when you said the machine didn't go through the usual channels?"

"It sent Ms. Glenanne's number to my cell phone."

"That has not happened before?"

"No, never. The machine must have picked up the threat from Snow at the last minute. Or it was trying to tell _you_ not to shoot her."

"So you don't think _they_ are a threat, to us for example?"

"I think we have to trust the machine. As you well know, the machine knows everything. It led them here for a reason, and it would not have done so if they were not trustworthy."

"That's if they are telling the truth. Is there anyone else who knows how you get the numbers?"

"You and I are the only ones who know."

Glenanne entered the room carrying the bag on her shoulder, and holding a box.

"I got it all. Unless you're hiding some grenades yet."

The men whose conversation she was interrupting did not answer her right away so she continued: "I could go on an easter grenade hunt."

Finch gave her a worried look, then turned to Reese, who indicated that no more weapons of any kind were hidden around the library.

"Okay you two start carrying boxes into the tunnel, I'll pack up a few more things."

"Finch, you shouldn't stay here by yourself." Finch was about to protest when Glenanne said. "I'll stay with him."

"Thank you, Ms. Glenanne, but I don't need a babysitter."

"How about a bodyguard?" Glenanne stood up straighter to make her point.

Finch was about to say something else, but the imploring look he got from Reese made him relent.

"Alright, go,” he told Reese, then limped towards the adjacent room. He was still uncomfortable having a stranger in the library, even though the machine had led her here, and it really did not matter now.

Reese push the cart toward the stairs, but stopped to look back at Glenanne, who re-adjusted the position of her Glock and gave him a reassuring nod before following Finch. Finch quickly packed up the most sensitive electronics as well as some of the medical supplies. Glenanne in the meanwhile wiped the fingerprints from the most conspicuous surfaces, though she doubted it would make much of a difference. She found Bear's ball and chew toy and threw them on top of one of the boxes.

They met up again in the library basement. Reese had moved the contents of the cart into the car and now took a box with electronics from Glenanne as her and Finch came down the stairs. He noticed Glenanne walking protectively just to the side and ahead of the stiff man, the same way Reese had done on occasion. Glenanne was carrying another box and Finch had a duffel bag around his shoulders.

"I thought you said there were just a few more things, Finch."

"These ARE just a few things."

"Two boxes and a duffel bag are NOT a 'few' things."

"Indeed they are not. The remaining three boxes are at the top of the stairs."

Glenanne grinned as Reese set the second box back on top of the one she was carrying, and then disappeared up the stairs to fetch the remaining three.

Finch's phone rang while they were on their way back to the car.

"Mr. Finch, I have information on the finger prints. Are Fiona and Mr. Reese near?"

Finch put the phone on speaker. Westen's voice echoed through the tunnel and Finch turned down the volume. All three had their heads over the phone.

"The fingerprint belongs to a thug with a small-time criminal gang. The NYPD has a file on them. They operate out of a warehouse near Cliffside park. I suggest we pay them a visit."

"Ms. Glenanne and I will meet you at the corner of Pallisade and Cliff in half an hour,” Reese offered.

"Alright, see you there."

The call was disconnected.

"Finch, are the keys for the Volkswagen in one of these boxes?"

"Shouldn't you come up with a plan, rather than just go barging in."

"We're two- “ he looked at Glenanne "three trained agents, up against some common thugs. I think we'll manage."

"Some common thugs working with two of your former colleagues,” Finch reminded him while fishing the key for the spare car Reese had made him buy out of a pocket. They had reached the Lincoln then and Reese shoved the remaining boxes on the back seat. He smiled when he saw Bear's ball. Finch opened one of the boxes and pulled out two more earwigs which he handed to Glenanne. Their ride together was short. Finch dropped Reese, Glenanne and the duffel bag with weapons off by the spare car and then left for their provisional HQ.

.

"So, you and Stanton were partners at the CIA." It wasn't a question and Reese didn't answer.

"You go M.I.A, and 2 years later, Stanton is working for the people who burned Michael, while you work for some mysterious man preventing crimes. How did that happen?"

"It's a long story."

"I love long stories."

Reese's sigh was nearly imperceptible.

"Oh you're just like Michael.” Glenanne sighed and folder her arms in front of her.

Reese was fairly certain she did not mean that in a flattering way.

"You're not with the CIA anymore; no more security clearances nor need-to-know crap."

"Knowing gets people hurt."

"Yeah well so does not knowing."

Reese regarded Glenanne for a moment before concentrating on the traffic again.

"I thought Kara was dead. The CIA tried to kill us both. More than once, in my case."

"What do they want you dead for?"

"Knowing too much."

"Well that sounds just like them, doesn't it?"

A wistful grin flashed on Reese's face.

"Like I said, knowing gets people hurt."

There was a moment of silence. Reese was not sure why he continued.

"I don't know how Kara survived, or how she came to work with the people you and Westen are after. Or Snow for that matter. Last I knew he was still working for the agency."

Silence again. Glenanne wanted to ask all kinds of questions, but she sensed that, just like Michael, Reese would not be willing to talk about the topics that interested her most. She nudged him on as lightly as she could.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How did you end up working with Finch?"

"He offered me a job. I accepted."

Glenanne knew very well that you do not do the job that Reese, Michael or her had done, and then go back to a normal life. There was a point after which you never really come in from the cold anymore. The best you could hope far was to find a productive outlet for your skills. She had seen enough to get the gist of the arrangement between Finch and Reese. Somehow Finch was providing that productive outlet for Reese.

"You're lucky,” she told him.

Reese did not react. He was not in a state of mind to analyze his life, least of all with a woman he had only met hours ago and whose agenda and role in the unfolding events he was still dubious about. Of course her remark was right on target; maybe not surprising, since she _was_ close to someone who was just like him in many ways. He presumed that she would understand his silence, too.

.

**** 01:30pm**

Reese and Glenanne found Westen waiting at the agreed upon meeting point. They were not the only ones interested in the gang's warehouse. Westen had already noticed police snipers taking position on the roofs, and heavily armed policemen were closing in on the building.

"We're too late,” remarked Westen.

"Damn, now _they_ get to have all the fun."

The trio watched the police raid from a safe distance. It went smoothly; too smoothly. The forward team had been in the building for 5 minutes, yet no shots had been fired yet.

Finch's voice sounded in their ears. "It appears someone got to the gang members already. The police found all of them dead. They think it was a rival gang that did it."

Glenanne lost the last bit of hope she had been holding on to for getting in on the action and shifted her focus to a more mundane pastime.

"Let's go get some lunch,” she suggested, taking off toward a small sandwich shop across the street without waiting for a response. The men followed her lead. They ate while watching the police thin out and the coroner come and go. Glenanne entertained the guys with stories from her past, trying to get them to open up a bit. She was not very successful though.

Well after all police had cleared the area, they went over to scrutinize the warehouse. They fanned out, Reese taking the smaller east section while Weston and Glenanne focused on the west section. Nothing of interest to either of them was there.

"Mr. Reese, Mr. Westen and Ms. Glenanne. Are you there?"

Reese tapped his ear. So did Westen in the other room.

"I'm here, Finch."

"So are we."

"The police have been tipped off about activity in the warehouse you are currently at. They are on their way. You should leave as soon as possible."

“Understood, Finch.”

"Alright, let's clear out. Meet at the west entrance,” Westen said.

A muted shot pierced the quiet of the warehouse. It came from the section that Westen was in. Neither of them had silencers on their guns, so Reese knew the shot must have been fired by someone else. He jogged to the doorway leading to the adjacent section and took cover. He could not see anyone in the next room, which provided ample cover in the form of boxes of engine parts and storage racks.

"Westen, Glenanne, are you alright?" Reese whispered into the silence.

"Michael's been hit!" Glenanne said in an urgent whisper.

"I'm fine. The shooter is in the south area of the hall."

"Finch, do you have eyes on the building? Did you see anyone enter?"

"Hang on a moment."

The building was quiet, and the low, orange sun shone through the windows high up in the warehouse wall, leaving the warehouse floor in dirty orange shadows.

"I have no footage of anyone entering the warehouse, however, Agent Snow walked by Ms. Glenanne's car mere minutes ago."

"How did he find us?"

"It's him. I've got eyes on him. I can take him out,” Glenanne whispered.

Another shot echoed through the warehouse.

"Damn, I only got his arm.”

"The police are only minutes away from your location!" Finch informed them.

The group of ex-operatives met up at the west entrance. Westen had a bloody leg, but he was walking alright. Snow fired a shot at them from somewhere behind a wire rack to the north and nearly hit him again. The three ex-operatives looked at each other, they all had the same idea in mind. They were going to get Snow, one way or another. Reese motioned for Glenanne to follow the shelves going east into the building, then turn and come up behind Snow. Westen and him fired a couple of shots to keep Snow distracted. Glenanne did not get far though before the north warehouse door opened and a loud voice echoed through the building. "Police! Put down your weapons and come out hands up!"

Frustrated, Glenanne joined Westen and Reese again, and they hurried out through the west door. They made it part way down the narrow alley behind the warehouse when they heard footsteps behind them.

"Police! Stop or I _will_ shoot."

There was no way out for them but to stop and deal with the police officer, and all three of them knew it. The officer was in the semi-shadow cast by a tall concrete wall behind which the sun was setting. They were past the wall, and well illuminated by the reddish-orange beams of light. A bad tactical position. They turned around slowly to face the officer, weapons still drawn.

 

 

**Chapter 6: Icepick**

 

"John! Damn, I knew this had your fingerprints all over it,” Carter said in a muffled shout.

Reese and Carter both lowered their weapons.

"Who are your friends?"

Carter looked Glenanne and Westen over as Reese spoke.

"They're our current number."

"Sure they are." She was not convinced. The man in the stylish charcoal suit was bleeding from the leg, yet was fully composed and wearing the mask face she knew all too well. The woman wearing an equally stylish long crimson dress and fancy jacket looked unfazed by the gun-fight, being stopped by a police detective, or the injury of her companion. And both of them handled their handguns like professionals. They sure did not seem like they were in need of Reese's services.

Glenanne and Westen lowered their weapons. They watched more and more of the detective's features become illuminated as she approached them.

"And are they in trouble or are they the ones causing it?" Carter asked.

"That remains to be seen,” Reese answered, giving his 'numbers' a sideways look.

"That's Agent Snow back there. Tell me, what do him, your friends here, and the gang members you killed have to do with each other." She talked to Reese, ignoring his companions for the time being.

"I did not kill the gang members."

Carter looked around. Not seeing any other police officers in the vicinity, she holstered her weapon.

"You sure of that? And I take it you didn't kill the one this morning behind that office building, either. Because it sure looked like your work. And he,” she looked at Westen, "would fit the description of the other man in a suit. Dammit John, the police station is abuzz already with rumours about a second man in a suit!"

"That one, I might have. Listen, Carter, you don't want to get involved here."

"Not get involved? I'm involved already. I'm the one who gets to deal with this mess.” She motioned back toward the warehouse.

Reese was conflicted. Westen and Glenanne already knew too much about Finch and him, and now they knew about Carter, too. Yet he was still mostly in the dark as to what brought all these ex-agents here. Heck between him, Snow, Stanton, Westen and Glenanne, they could field more than half a baseball team. Of course they were not all playing on the same side.

Controlling the information that each player possessed was one of the most important ways to keep control of the game. He had lived with that notion for too long to not let the free flow of information that day bother him.

 

"Carter, are you out there?" the voice of another officer sounded from back at the building. Carter sighted in frustration. Reese was saved by the bell, as they say.

"Go!" she told Reese and his companions. She did not have to ask them twice. They took off down the alley and she headed back to the building, telling the other officer that she did not find the shooters. Snow had already made himself sparse, flashing his CIA credentials so the police would let him go. Carter was left with nothing but six dead gang members and she had just let her only suspects go.

 

**** 6:08pm**

Reese, Westen and Glenanne were close to their cars when Finch's voice came through their earwigs again.

"I have been going over the data on the disk. You might all want to come to my provisional HQ. Leave Ms. Glenanne's rental car, I have reason to believe there's a tracker on it."

"That would explain how Snow keeps finding us,” Westen said.

"He's already been to your hotel and to our safe-house." Finch refrained from telling them about the intruder currently at the library, for fear Reese would do something rash.

"So what's on the disk?" Westen asked.

"I'd prefer to talk about that in person."

.

They arrived at the car and Reese pulled out the first aid kit, while Glenanne transferred a surprising amount of weaponry from the trunk of her rental car to Reese's Volkswagen. She then got in the back seat with Westen and helped him put a bandage on what turned out to be just a graze. Reese started the car and they took off toward provisional HQ.

When Westen thought they all had their phones turned off, he asked Reese:

"Where does Finch get all this information?"

"He's good with computers."

Westen could believe that, however he did not buy for a second that it was the correct answer to his question.

"How many more people do you work with?"

"It's just us: Finch and me." More information he did not particularly care to share. But what was he supposed to say?

"What about the detective back there?"

"She's an asset." Not telling the whole truth never hurt anyone, at least Reese liked to think so.

"So you got a dirty cop in your pocket? Nice." Westen said with some sincere appreciation. However, the expressions both on Reese's and Glenanne's faces told him that he had just put his foot in his mouth big time. If she was not dirty, though, why would she have let them go?

Reese did have a dirty cop in his pocket. Just that this one was not it.

"She's not a dirty cop. For all I know, she's the last honest cop in the city."

"You admitted to killing a man and she let us go!"

"Must be because we look so sharp in our suits." He was determined not to drag Carter into this any more than he absolutely had to.

Glenanne rolled her eyes. She saw right through the show that Reese's callous attitude toward Carter was. She very much wanted to know more about the relationship between Reese and Carter, and for that matter, between Reese and Finch. So did Weston, though for different reasons. He found himself and Glenanne integrated into whatever it was Finch and Reese represented, despite any misgivings he had. A part of him was playing along, rolling with the punches, the same way he would on any under-cover job. But working with them did come easier to him than he wanted to admit to himself.

.

Keeping Carter out of it was not as easy as Reese had hoped. Finch's voice sounded in Reese's ear. His companions had taken their earwigs out already.

"Mr. Reese, Mr. Weston and Ms. Glenanne?"

"Hang on Finch."

Reese put his phone on speaker.

"I believe a team alias would be in order. Addressing each one of you individually is becoming cumbersome."

"We're not a line in a login script, Finch."

Finch smiled on the other end of the connection. Reese still managed to surprise him with the random things he picked up.

"I think team 'Snowstorm' would be an appropriate name for you three, don't you think?"

"We're not comic-book characters, either." Reese said in his forcefully calm voice.

"Alpha-team?" Finch suggested.

Weston put on the pokerface he usually reserved for conversations with his mom. Reese was just a little bit embarrassed. He also sensed there was a better reason for the call. Both agents were uncomfortable with the formalization of their involvement as a team that a name would indicate.

"You called to discuss what to name us?" The tone of Reese's voice made it clear that there better be a more important reason.

"No, actually, I'm calling to let you know that Detective Carter apprehended another gang member. She's taking him in for questioning right now."

"If Snow and Stanton killed the others, they'll go after this one as well,” Reese mused.

"We can't let that happen, now can we?" Glenanne said with an enthusiasm that nearly made Reese grin.

"I'm sending the location of the Detective's cruiser to your phone."

“Thanks, Finch."

Reese dialled Carter's regular cell phone. There was no answer.

.

Carter was on the radio with dispatch when her cell phone rang. She was not inclined to find her headset and answer the phone, while busy with the radio and with a gang member whose name he claimed was 'Icepick' in the back of her cruiser. Dispatch was informing her that she was to pull over and wait for Agent Snow. The CIA had a sudden interest in 'Icepick' and they wanted him _right now_. The only person who could maybe tell her what was going on, and she would not even have a chance to take him to the precinct for questioning. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel while keeping an eye on the reflection in the rear-view mirror of the man in the backseat and wishing she could wipe the smug grin off his face.

A car pulled up behind her and Agent Snow stepped out of it onto the sidewalk. Carter got out of her cruiser and waited, leaning against her vehicle. She noted that Snow’s arm was wrapped in a makeshift bandage and thought there was something odd about his demeanour. Whatever; it was late and at least with no suspect to question, she would get to go home, at least that was what she liked to tell herself at that moment.

"Sure you can handle him?" she asked Snow, looking at the bandage on his arm.

"Absolutely."

She opened the back door and pulled 'Icepick' out of her cruiser.

"Icepick, meet Agent Snow. He'll take you from here. Snow, Icepick."

Snow just grunted in response. He grabbed Icepick's arm and started pulling him toward his car.

.

"I can't let you take this man, Mark." Reese was approaching on foot from the opposite side of the street, pointing a semi-automatic at Snow.

"John, let it go. This has nothing to do with you." Snow had spent months looking for Reese, and now, at the worst possible time, Reese showed up out of nowhere and for no good reason. He would not give Reese the satisfaction of appearing at all flustered by this sudden appearance, though.

Carter had her gun trained on Reese from behind her police car. Damn him for putting her in this situation. Both Snow and 'Icepick' were behind Snow's car, on the opposite side from Reese. Reese on the other hand was on the open street, no cover in sight. Carter wondered why he would put himself into such a vulnerable tactical position. Then she remembered his new 'numbers'. She did not look around for them, not wanting to tip Snow off, but she was sure now that they were around somewhere.

"Sorry, no can do. Send that man over here to me now, and this won't have to end badly for you."

"You shoot at me and Detective Carter here will put a bullet in you."

Reese glanced over at Carter. He felt bad for forcing them onto opposite sides of an armed conflict again, in somewhat of a variation on the last one.

A bullet impacted the pavement next to Carter, the spark well visible in the dark. It was closely followed by a second bullet near Snow's feet. Carter could not make out the shooter. She shot an angry look at Reese.

"I will ask just one more time. Send that man over to me now."

Snow could not spot the shooter either. A sniper on one of the roofs most likely; it's how he would do it. He wondered since when Reese had a partner again.

“Fine," Snow hissed and pushed Icepick into Reese's direction. Icepick gave Snow an uncertain look. Snow yelled at him to go and he walked between the two cars and onto the street to Reese. Reese took Icepick by the elbow and walked off without giving Snow or Carter another look. Snow went to go after them, but was stopped by another bullet on the pavement in front of him.

Up on the roof, Glenanne smirked with delight. She was still hoping for Snow to make a wrong move, give her a good reason, but he did not.

.

When Reese and Icepick were out of sight, Carter took a deep breath and addressed Snow.

"You wanna tell me what's going on here?"

She did not know what to make of the look he gave her.

"None of your concern,” he said, got in his car and drove off.

Carter sighed in frustration. Warning sign or not, she called Reese's cell phone. Out of service. She flung her phone on the passenger seat and started the car in the direction of the precinct.

.

Icepick was a stocky man in his early 20's with brown hair in a buzz cut. His muscular arms, gold chains, tattoos and bone-and-skull bearing black shirt were ample clue as to the type of person he was. His normal confidence was undermined by recent events. He was sure he would have everything back to normal, though, as soon as the older guy leading him by the elbow turned the corner into a side street, where the sniper would not have line-of-sight to them anymore. He made a move to punch the older man into the ribs sideways, and was taken by surprise when instead of impacting some ribs, his arm was suddenly bent painfully behind his back.

"I wouldn't try that again, if I were you."

No way he was letting an old man wearing a stuffy suit get the better of him. He tried to get his other arm free and yelped as the pain increased.

"You really should try and do as you're told,” his abductor told him.

"It _would_ be better for your health,” said another voice. He had not noticed the man now speaking to - and, more importantly, pointing a gun at him - until then. Westen had been watching the transaction with Snow from behind a parked car at the corner and quickly caught up with Reese and his charge.

Icepick stopped struggling and they continued down the street, Westen keeping a close watch of the street behind them.

"Who are you?" Icepick asked, trying for a firm voice, but failing.

"You can call me John, this is Michael. We could be your best friends or your worst enemies. All depends on you,” Reese whispered to him with an undertone of menace.

They met up with Glenanne at the VW and Reese drove them all toward his favourite interrogation spot.

 

 

**Chapter 7: A call from mom**

 

 

**** 7:22 pm**

Once they arrived at the abandoned factory building that had witnessed the breaking of a number of hardened criminals already, Reese took a large flashlight, as well as tape and ropes, from the trunk of the car. He led the way, with Westen wrangling Icepick, and Glenanne and her Glock keeping watch-out for unwelcome guests to their party. They fastened Icepick to a chair in a back room that was once an office, and left him there to stew for a while. Then they assembled outside the factory to coordinate their next moves.

.

Westen's new cell phone rang. Reese thought it was about time for Finch to check in with them, though he wondered why Finch was calling the phone he had given to Westen.

"Yes, Mr. Finch,” Westen answered.

"Finch? Who's Mr. Finch?"

"Mom?! How in god's name did you get this number?" Westen kept his desire to yell into the phone in check and turned away from the other two. He instantly wished he had had the presence of mind to cut off this phone call. Claim a wrong number or something. But now it was too late for that.

"Oh, god had nothing to do with it. Listen, Michael, you remember my new bridge partner, Phyllis?"

"No, mom, I don't remember a Phyllis,” he lied.

Reese gave Glenanne a stunned, turning into questioning, look. She shrugged. Just as Reese was getting comfortable being back to something that resembled his old routine, working a mission with other trained agents, Westen's _mom_ calls? That could not be right. At first he suspected this was a codename. But then only family could usually entice an agent who was skilled at concealing his true feelings to show the kind of emotions he saw in Weston's body language.

.

"Her daughter moved to New York two months ago. They usually talk on the phone every night, but now she has not heard from her in the last five days. The police have been less than helpful, so I told her you'd look into it."

"Mom, I'm busy at the moment! I'll call you back when I have more time."

Michael was exasperated as per usual at his mom's presumptuousness, but this time he was also embarrassed. This was unprofessional - operatives didn't get phone calls from their moms in the field - and he felt like he was losing face in front of Reese.

"Michael! Phyllis is beside herself. She hasn't slept in days. Please, her daughter's name is Dianne Lehard."

"And you want me to do what, go door to door and show her picture?"

"Oh you'll come up with something. Sam is coming up there to give you a hand. He's bringing pictures of Dianne."

Westen punched the red button his phone to hang up and dialled Sam's number.

.

"What does your mom want?" Glenanne asked.

"Nothing, hang on." The phone was ringing.

"Sam! I asked you to stay with my mom."

"Yeah well Michael I was over there and her friend, Phyllis, was there too, crying, and you know how I can't bear to see a lady cry.”

Michael expelled a frustrated sigh and took a moment to adjust to the new situation.

"So who is watching my mom."

"Jesse can't get out of town, busy with his day job and all, but he'll check in with your mom on a regular basis."

"And where are you now?"

"Oh, I just landed at the airport here. I'm on my way to your hotel."

"When were you going to inform me of that?"

"It was going to be a surprise!"

Westen knew at that point it would be best to relent and accept his new mission. He changed his tone of voice accordingly.

"Listen, Sam, don't go to the hotel. Snow knows we stayed there. Don't take a rental car, either. Can you wait at the airport bar for me."

"Sure thing, Mikey."

.

"Who's Sam?"

Westen needed another moment to collect himself, rub his temples and come up with a way to integrate the new mission into their current one. Glenanne answered Reese's question.

"Sam Axe, he works with us."

"I got that, Mr. Reese, I'm on it right now." Finch's voice sounded in Reese's ear. Reese was not the least bit surprised that Finch had been listening in.

Reese did not like this new development. Another person he did not know, another free parameter. Glenanne sensed his unease.

"He's a good guy and he's on our side.” She wasn't in the least embarrassed about Westen's mom adding to the complexity of the work they were doing, and she did not feel particularly bad that Reese had to accommodate another person into his circle now. This was how they worked, and Reese would have to deal with it.

.

Westen turned around to face them again. He cleared his voice.

"Sam is at the airport here. He came to check up on the daughter of a friend of my mom's." Westen thought this would be a good point for someone to start shooting at them again. Embarrassed by his mom. What was he, 12? Glenanne found his discomfort amusing. He kept a straight face and continued. "He's probably on Snow's watchlist as well. Do you mind if I take the car while you and Fi interrogate 'Icepick'? It's only a few minutes to the airport from here."

"Go ahead." Reese agreed without giving Westen a hard time. He sensed he was getting enough of that already.

.Glenanne and Reese watched Westen drive off, then Glenanne asked:

"So, do you want to have a crack at him, or should I?"

"He doesn't look like he'll be hard to break."

"Not what I asked."

"Go ahead."

Glenanne pulled an impressive hunting-type knife out of her purse, grinned at Reese and went to have a chat with Icepick. Reese remained outside in the darkness, watching the perimeter by whatever little light the stars and the two distant street lamps provided.

Working in a team came naturally to Reese. Some rational part of his mind was trying to tell him that he should not be trusting these people, should try to exclude them from the case. And really, he did not trust them, not completely. But recent events activated old pathways in his brain so that he could not help but fall into this old routine. Working missions, with a real team. It felt so natural, so comfortable. He admonished himself. Of course he could help it; it was just that he did not want to. Not that there was anything wrong with him and Finch working alone. When he needed help, there were always Carter and Fusco, too. Besides that, he was fine working alone in the field, but this was nevertheless a nice break.

The sound of a car driving towards the factory building interrupted his train of thought. He had been expecting the sounds of begging and screaming to break the silence. At that moment, he found the sound of an approaching car engine more unsettling than begging and screaming would have been.

As soon as he recognized Carter's cruiser, he realized it had been a mistake to use his usual interrogation spot. He had had Fusco pick up a couple of thugs from here before, and Carter must have guessed he would come here again. She spotted Reese's shadowy figure and stopped the car close to him, then opened the door and looked around. The light from the interior of the car illuminated the immediate area.

"Detective. You shouldn't have come here." He injected a menacing tone into his voice.

"Why, are you gonna have someone shoot at me again?" Carter said, overtly upset, and not impressed by his voice.

"I thought I was clear when I explained that the red circle on the dumpster meant you were not to try and contact Finch or me."

"So you shoot at me? I was just doing my job." She sounded more irritated than angry and Reese sensed that the irritation was not about being shot at, at least not all of it.

"You know that that was just for show." Reese stopped trying to intimidate. He did not really want Carter to suspect he might do anything to hurt her, and besides, it was not working.

"John, I've got 6 dead gang members: one behind an office building in mid-town - a building that you and your new 'numbers' were seen in -, and five more in their own warehouse, and you abducted a seventh one." Her voice sounded tired.

"Lucky number seven."

Carter ignored the attempt at humor.

"I've got a wounded CIA agent who'll no doubt be asking a lot of questions in the morning, and I have nothing to tell. Help me out here." Despite the tiredness in her voice, she made it sound like a command, not a plea.

Reese sighed.

"Snow is not working for the CIA anymore. I'm fairly certain he was going to kill Icepick."

"What for?" Wrinkles appeared on Carter’s forehead. She subjected Reese to a scrutinizing look. Then she looked past him at the factory door, where Glenanne was leaning against the doorframe waiting to be noticed.

"Snow hired Icepick's gang to help find and kill Michael and me. He probably did not want him to live and talk about it.”

"Michael?"

Glenanne closed the distance between them.

"The guy in the _nice_ suit."

" _Right_." Carter said. "So you're saying Snow killed the gang in the warehouse."

"Uh-huh."

.

"Did Icepick say anything else?" Reese wanted to know.

"As far as he knows, Snow worked alone. He approached them yesterday, said they were going to be rewarded nicely for their efforts. Snow didn't tell them why he was looking for us, and they didn't ask.

I believe him."

"Did he tell you his real name?" Carter wanted to know.

"I didn't ask."

Carter turned to Reese.

"Look, John, let me take 'Icepick' in. I'll keep it quiet. If what you're saying is true, Snow won't have the credentials to get to him."

"I've flagged Snow on the police computers. I was already in their system anyway. He won't get access there anymore." Finch said through the earwig.

"Would you bring Icepick out?" Reese asked Glenanne, who disappeared  back into the building.

Carter packed an unharmed Icepick back into her cruiser and started her second attempt that night to bring him in for questioning.

.

**** 7:40 pm**

Sam Axe found himself a spot at the airport bar. He tried to decide on a fitting drink for the city he was in, but his mind kept going back to playing out possible scenarios for his impending meeting with Westen. When the bartender suddenly appeared before him, he just ordered his customary mojito. He ate a handful of peanuts and sullenly sipped on his drink until he spotted Westen out of the corner of his eye. Sitting up straight, he greeted his friend.

"Mikey! How are you doing?"

"Let's go, Sam. I'll fill you in on everything on the way."

"No time to sit and have a drink with an old friend, eh?"

Westen was already leaving the bar. Axe caught up with him, pulling his suitcase behind.

"Mike, come on. You know how your mom can be!"

"It's not that, Sam. Fiona is by herself with John Reese, the agent who worked with Snow and Stanton. They are interrogating someone. I should really be there."

"Hang on a moment. Reese; when did he come into the picture?"

"He works for Harold Finch. He's on our side, I think."

"So you found Harold Finch I take it?"

"We did."

"That's great news. Did you give him the disk yet."

"Give who the disk?" asked a sweet female voice from just behind Westen, while relieving Westen of his sidearm.

They had nearly arrived at the short term parking lot. Now they each had the silencer part of a gun pressed into the small of their backs and were ushered toward a nearby van.

"Get in." Snow said in a rough voice as he opened the side door.

"Hey, what about my luggage." Axe started making a scene, hoping it would draw attention to them. The darkness was on their opponents' side.

"I said 'get in'."

"But my favourite shirt's in there!"

A hard push propelled him into the van. Westen followed right behind him. Under the watchful eyes of Stanton and her gun, Snow secured their hands and feet with twist ties, then took their cell phones.

.

**** 7:54 pm**

Glenanne and Reese gathered the ropes, duct tape and flashlights, leaving the factory building the way they had found it. They stood in near darkness when Glenanne dialled Westen's cell phone and found that it was out of service. Reese tapped his earwig.

"Finch, where's Westen?"

Glenanne put her earwig back in her ear, too.

"Mr. Reese, I'm afraid we have a situation. I lost the signal from Mr. Westen's phone moments ago. I checked the airport cameras and it seems that agents Snow and Stanton took Westen and his friend Axe. On a possibly related note: we have a new number. It's the same young woman that Mr. Westen's mom asked him to find."

"Can you track their position somehow?" Glenanne asked.

"I'll see what I can do."

.

Glenanne and Reese walked a couple of blocks then hailed a cab, which took them to the airport's short term parking lot, where they saw the Volkswagen right away. Finch in the meanwhile informed them of the licence plate number, colour, make and model of the van they were after, and where he last saw it on camera.

.

**** 8:20 pm**

With Icepick safely stowed away in an interrogation room, Carter went to her desk to pick up the necessary paperwork. An inconspicuous yellow envelope had her heart beating a little faster. She looked around making sure no one was watching her, and opened the envelope to find a new cell phone. Whatever Reese was up to, she could rely on Finch to at least keep in touch. She noticed a second identical envelope in the paper bin already, and looked over to Fusco, who seemed to be having a hard time with something on his computer. When he noticed her watching him, he said "Must have been a false alarm this morning."

"Huh?"

"The red circle on the dumpster,” he whispered.

Carter stared at her new cellphone for a moment.

"I don't know,” she said, ”I ran into John earlier and he was acting pretty strange. I'm still not sure what's going on, and frankly I don't think he is, either, but I'm hoping the guy in interrogation one will have some answers for me.

What are _you_ doing?"

"Glasses has me looking into some new number they got. Didn't give me much to go on though. He's good with all this computer stuff, don't know why he can't do the research part himself."

"Let me know if you come across anything interesting?"

"Sure thing, partner.”

.

**** 8:34 pm**

Finch had been able to piece together the route Stanton and company had taken from images caught on various cameras, but lost them when they drove out of the city to where the density of cameras was just too low. Reese and Glenanne were left to meander through the suburb, hoping to maybe spot the van in a driveway somewhere. In the dark, in the suburbs, it was a pretty hopeless endeavour. Reese stopped the car at the side of the street.

"What are you doing?"

"This isn't getting us anywhere."

"What do you suggest?"

"We'll go back to HQ until we have some more intel."

"No way. They are here somewhere. Michael will give us a signal."

Of course, Reese thought. If they worked together a lot and actually did NOT consider each other expendable, they _would_ have some protocol in place for a situation like this. He started the car again and proceeded in a pattern that systematically covered each street. He noticed Glenanne's growing apprehension as the minutes passed without a sign from her boyfriend. He had the urge to say something to reassure her, but did not want to seem condescending. He called Finch instead.

"Hey Finch, do you have anything for us?"

"When I do, you'll be the first one to know, Mr. Reese."

Glenanne sighed in frustration. Reese stopped the car again and got a withering look from her. He jumped out and entered the convenience store they were parked in front of. He came back with two hot-dogs and two cups of coffee.

"Could be a while out here,” he said as he handed her one of each. Her features mellowed.

"Thanks." She accepted the food and they continued their survey of the suburb.

"How did you and Michael meet?”

"I was an asset of his once."

Reese gave her a surprised look.

"What?" she asked, though she knew exactly why she was getting that look.

"Getting involved with an asset ... is frowned upon by the agency."

"Another reason to go freelance."

"You get involved with an asset, things get complicated, freelance or not."

Glenanne laughed out loud, earning her another surprised look.

"I've had that conversation with Michael. I say, some things are worth the complications."

Reese had never considered that there might be other people facing the same challenges he did. People trained like him, who somehow kept their capacity for compassion throughout their work, and who somehow ended up 'retired' from the agency but not in an 'unmarked grave' kind of way. Struggling now with whether or not to let go of some of the tenets that had been drilled into them, and that they thought had served them so well for so long. Struggling to re-connect with the world, finding their way out of the shadows. Yearning, sometimes, to go back to the easy succession of pretend lives in the dark; always ready to leave at the drop of a hat, with clear objectives, no attachments, no regrets, and no need to show regard for the fall-out from their actions.

It felt good to know he was not the only one with those issues. He showed a rare hint of a smile.

"You were with the IRA. You came here to be with Michael?"

"Not exactly. I had quit the IRA and gone freelance a while before learning of Michael's burn notice."

"Why did you quit?"

"I don't take orders very well."

Reese had no trouble believing that. He sensed there may be more, but did not want to pry.

 

 

**Chapter 8: The trade**

 

**** Tuesday 10:02 pm**

Reese and Glenanne had covered the suburb and were now extending their search to the more rural area beyond. Habit had Reese study the car that came up behind them on the highway. He tapped his ear.

"Finch?"

"I'm afraid I have no news yet with regards to the location of Mr. Westen and Mr. Axe."

"Did you send Detective Fusco out to help us?"

"No, I put the Detective on our new number."

Finch brought up the map on which flashing dots represented the locations of all his 'assets'.

"That's interesting. He seems to be in the car right behind yours. By the way, I provided our Detectives with new cellphones. The numbers should be in your phone's address book already."

"Thanks Finch."

Reese dialled Fusco's number.

"Evening, Fusco. Care to tell me what you are doing here?"

"What do you mean 'here'? Your boss has me working a case - Dianne something -; I'm on my way to her house right now."

"You're driving right behind me!"

Reese's phone beeped, indicating he had another call waiting.

"Yeah? So what are _you_ doing here?"

Reese ignored the question and instead asked: "Where does Dianne live?"

"Just down the highway from here."

"Turn off your headlights, and pull over at that rest area,” he told Fusco before switching to his other call.

"Mr. Reese, if you had not so rudely disconnected me a minute ago, I'd have told you that Detective Carter's new cell phone is very close to your location as well!"

"I know, Finch. I see her cruiser,” Reese said through clenched teeth.

Reese and Fusco pulled into the small tree-lined highway rest area with the lonely yellow streetlight. Detective Carter got out of her car and stood next to it waiting for the people she recognized as her friends to park and get out of theirs. Their cars came to a halt in front of the myriad of distant lights from the city, which outshone the stars in the clear sky. The night was cool and she could see her breath against the light of the overhead lamp. She noted that Reese was driving in without his headlights on, and Fusco had his off now as well, probably at Reese's request. "Spies", she thought, "always going for the clandestine entry."

.

Fusco caught up to Reese and Glenanne, who were already walking toward Carter.

"So, what are ya' all doing here?" Fusco began. "And who's she?" he said, nodding toward Glenanne. "I thought _I_ was working the current case."

"How about you let _me_ ask the questions, Lionel?" Reese chastised him with the same menacing voice that had not worked on Carter earlier.

The group had now reached Carter's cruiser.

"No, I think _I'll_ be the one asking the questions,” Carter said. "Fusco, you first."

"Fine. Glasses gave me the name of their new number to check out. Dianne Lehard. She lives just down the street. I'm on my way to check on her place. I think it's the house with the light in the window that you can see through the trees, across the field."

"I can confirm that." Finch's voice sounded in Reese's ear. "I've looked into her myself now. It turns out she's a software engineer and it just so happens that she used to work for the company from which Mr. Westen obtained the disk he gave to me earlier!"

"Your turn." Carter addressed Reese. Reese silently stared back at her.

"You'll get nothing from me until you've told me what's going on,” she added.

Glenanne sat on the hood of the cruiser watching the exchange and would have been amused, were the lives of Westen and Axe not on the line. Reese was not amused either. He had tried being rude and intimidating, and it had not worked to stop Carter from wanting to be a part of this. Time to try the truth, he figured.

"Carter, Fusco, we are going up against very dangerous people in a game where I don't know all the players and where the rules constantly change. The more you know about any of this the more danger you will be in."

"Spill, John,” Carter said.

"Yeah, what she said,” Fusco added.

Glenanne looked at Reese, genuinely interested to see if he would accept the help.

Reese caved and filled them in on the disk, how Snow and Stanton were after it, how they had hired Icepick's gang to help find Glenanne and Westen, and how they had now abducted Westen and Axe. Glenanne noticed he deftly left out the part about the public phones.

"I see,” said Carter when Reese was finished. "So what's on that disk?"

"We don't know yet."

"Of course not.

Well, I had another chat with Icepick and he said that one of the members of his gang had followed Snow to this location. So that's why I'm here."

"Now we know why they're all dead,” Glenanne said. She was somewhat chagrined that she had not gotten that information out of Icepick herself.

"I was just over there, knocked on the door with a made up call for a disturbance. I then drove here and was just about to give you guys a call when I recognized your car driving up. A woman answered the door, not sure if it was the Dianne you're looking for. Do you have a picture?"

Glenanne thought that this had been a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Reese's first instinct, on the other hand, was to scold her for doing something so incredibly dangerous - on her own at that - without informing Finch or him. Finch was too busy managing all the information on his screens to think much about it, and Fusco had no idea how dangerous a move that had been.

"Hang on, Mr. Reese please hold up the phone,” Finch said as he pushed an image of Dianne Lehard to Reese's phone.

"No, that wasn't her."

"How about this one?"

Finch brought up a picture of Stanton.

"Yes, that's the woman who answered the door."

Reese clenched his teeth.

"Lovely. I bet she's keeping Michael, Sam and Dianne in that farmhouse somewhere. The shed or the basement maybe,” Glenanne suggested.

Carter was inclined to call in a police team, but she realized that that would be a bad idea in this case. They were after all dealing with well-trained and probably well-armed CIA agents.

"Finch, do you have any satellite images of the property?" Reese asked.

"Coming right up."

"Carter, did you see anyone besides Stanton? Any guards, sentries?"

"No, the place seemed empty besides her."

"Michael severely decimated the organization that burned him. If they are working for the same people, they are probably very short staffed. Would explain them hiring common thugs to help do the dirty work,” Glenanne said.

"Okay, let's assume it's just Stanton and Snow. They're probably expecting us by now."

"They may not be expecting this.” Glenanne slapped the trunk of the VW.

"What's in there?" Carter asked.

Glenanne looked at Reese, not sure now if it was a good idea to let a cop know about the contents of the trunk.

"It's some of my arsenal. With some additions from Ms. Glenanne,” Reese answered without hesitation.

"Let's see what you got." Carter said, as if they were talking about a box of doughnuts.

Glenanne's esteem of the police officer had just shot up considerably. She opened the trunk. Carter just nodded. Fusco stared at the weaponry, wide-eyed.

"Are you starting a war or something?" he asked only half in jest.

"Before we go that far," Finch's voice sounded from the speaker of Reese's phone. "You should know I've been going over the data on the disk. If all they want is the disk, they can have it back."

"Finch?" Reese asked, bewildered.

"What do you mean they can have it? We busted our asses getting that disk to you!" Glenanne exclaimed.

"I said they could have the disk. I didn't say they could have it back in its original condition. I can have the disk there, with just a few minor alterations, in an hour."

.

**** Wednesday 12:15am**

Glenanne walked up the dirt lane way to the rural bungalow, guided by a trail of small solar lights. The door opened before she could knock and she was greeted by the barrel of a 9mm.

"I've been wondering when you'd show up,” the voice from behind the door told her.

"Listen, I don't care about the disk or what's on it, or about the people who burned Michael. I just want my friends back. So tell you .. "

"Where's John?" Stanton demanded.

"Who?"

They had decided it would be best if Snow and Stanton did not know that Weston and Glenanne were working with Finch and Reese, so Glenanne pretended not to know who Stanton was talking about. She heard the distinctive 'click' of the 9mm being armed.

"Before you do something we'll all regret, you should know that I'm not here by myself."

A small storage shed blew up in a loud ball of fire beside the house.

"All I'm asking for is a simple exchange. I'll give you the disk, you give me Michael, Sam, and the owner of this house, and you leave us alone from now on. No one has to get hurt. But you should know that I have this place rigged better than a diamond mine." Glenanne's voice was confident, with a hint of playfulness.

A red dot appeared on the doorframe. It was replaced momentarily by a bullet. The red dot reappeared, joined by a second one on the opposite side of the doorframe.

"I also brought some old friends from my days at the IRA." Glenanne lied.

"You're bluffing."

"You've no doubt looked me up. You know I'm not."

To make her point, the stable behind the house was spectacularly reduced to a pile of burning straw and lumber in a matter of seconds. Glenanne held up the disk.

"Do we have a deal?" she asked.

Stanton considered her options. She _had_ done her research on Glenanne and knew what the other woman was capable of. Some of the events today did not make sense to her though, like the sudden appearance of Reese. Was Reese on to them? She could not see how. Was he secretly working with that detective, Carter, after all? That was Snows theory.

Stanton had seen no sign that Glenanne had contacted any of her former associates. Of course she still was not sure what her and Westen had been doing all over town the day before. That could have been them contacting her old friends. And then there was the office building, and the abandoned library building across the street from it. Was that where she met her associates, maybe? In the end, Stanton had no backup, the neighbours probably already called the police, Snow was unreliable, and all she needed now was the disk, provided this was in fact the right disk.

Stanton called to Snow to bring up the hostages. She left for a moment and came back to the door with a laptop.

"Put the disk in here,” she ordered.

Stanton hit a few keys on the laptop and verified that she had in fact been given the right disk. Westen, Axe and a scared looking woman who Glenanne recognized from the picture as Ms. Lehard appeared in the hall behind Stanton. She looked them over and they appeared only slightly worse for the wear.

Stanton opened the door all the way and told Snow to let the hostages go. Glenanne took Westen's arm; he looked not quite steady on his feet after all. Axe led Lehard out behind them. Sirens were blaring in the distance.

Reese folded up his rifle, gathered the triggers for the explosives, sprinted to the car parked on the highway bank, and drove it up to the turn-off into the laneway. Carter, laying hidden in the bushes on a small hill behind the vegetable garden, kept her rifle trained on the door of the farmhouse.

"I guess our trip to New York was not a complete waste of time after all,” Westen said to Glenanne when they were close to the end of the lane. She gave the battered man a puzzled look.

"Well, you got to blow something up."

Glenanne rolled her eyes and pushed Westen into the open door of the waiting VW.

"Plus, we found your mom's friend's daughterm" Axe said, smiling at Ms. Lehard, who looked back at her shed and barn, terrified.

"Don't worry, your pets are fine,” Glenanne said to Ms. Lehard.

Reese drove them all to the nearby highway rest area. He felt the tension leaving his shoulders, though he did not allow himself to relax quite yet. Everything had gone much better than he had expected. After all, their situation was quite absurd. An ex-IRA operative running point on the operation. Two cops for tactical support who, under different circumstance, would arrest both him and her. And a bossy reclusive billionaire with no field training whatsoever coordinating everyone.

.

Finch got out of the Lincoln to greet them. He wanted to have a word with Ms. Lehard. Ms. Lehard, though, on getting out of the VW, ran right up to Fusco, who was holding two beautiful but scared Quarter Horses, and a golden retriever. While Fusco was holding the leads, it was mostly Bear keeping the animals in check. Ms. Lehard hugged her dog and her horses, and gave Bear a rub on the head as well. She bantered with Fusco, while Reese looked around for Carter. He was about to send Bear to track her when she came out of the thicket, from the direction of the farmhouse.

"Damn blackberry bushes. My good pants are ruined and I think I got a thorn in my arm."

"Told you it could get dangerous,” Reese said, a sly smirk on his face.

She grunted and handed him the sniper rifle back. He accepted the rifle and then picked some thorny blackberry leaves off her jacket while walking her to her car.

"You should get out of here before people see you with us."

"Always trying to get rid of me."

The smirk made another brief appearance on his face.

“Thanks," he said, smirk replaced by a sincere look, and closed her car door. He waved to Fusco to follow Carter's example. The red and blue lights of several police cars, ambulances and fire-trucks illuminated the rest area for a minute.

Finch offered Westen and Axe to arrange for medical attention but they declined. Finch was going to insist, but a pickup truck pulling a horse trailer pulled in. Finch directed it toward the animals and Glenanne and Lehard started loading the horses on the trailer.

.

"So, who's he?" Axe asked Westen.

"That's Harold Finch."

Axe studied the little man in the extravagant suit for a moment.

"Wow, I thought he'd be more, I don't know, bad-ass or something."

"I think that's what he's got _him_ for." Weston pointed at Reese, who was walking up to them.

"Yup, he looks like an ex-op alright. You guys should open a club." Axe smiled at Reese. "Hey, thanks for getting us out of there."

"No problem. It's probably best if you stay at one of Finch's safe houses for tonight. You'll find medical supplies in the under-sink shelf in the bathroom."

"A hotel will be fine." Westen said.

"I think you'll want the medical supplies in the bathroom of the safe-house. Besides, Finch is going to insist."

"Sounds a bit like your mom, that Mr. Finch, don't you think?" Axe teased Westen then quickly said: "Excuse me for a moment,” and went over to help wrestle the scared horses into the trailer.

.

"You traded the disk for us,” Westen stated in a way Reese thought had a hint of accusation.

"We did. Finch made some modifications though."

"It won't be of use to them, then?"

"No."

"As soon as they figure that out, they'll come after us again."

"I'm sure Finch has some kind of a plan. We were in a bit of a hurry earlier and he has not filled us in on all the details yet."

Westen kept a stoic expression. They both stood at the side of the VW and watched the commotion of people and animals across the parking lot. Glenanne was calming down one of the horses and it accepted a piece of apple from her. Finch was trying to command Bear to herd the horses into the trailer, but that plan backfired in that it made the horses even more nervous. Glenanne staged a benevolent coup and took over from Finch, directing the unwilling actors on the scene. Westen had not known Glenanne was good with horses. Reese noticed him watching her.

"It's not worth it to go back,” Reese said into the cold night air.

Westen turned his head to look at him, his face still stoic.

"The CIA. It's not worth it. You've got a good thing going here."

"Are you telling me you wouldn't go back, if you could?"

"At first, I wanted to. I gave up everything that had meant something to me to work for the CIA, thinking I was protecting what I cared about. Thinking I was doing something worthwhile. That my life was made meaningful through the work I did. Then I found out I had been wrong, about everything. I also found out that there are plenty of bad people to fight right here.

It's too late for me, but it isn't for you."

Westen said nothing in response. He had wanted to make a quip about Reese obviously having spent too much time with Glenanne, but the raw nature of the last sentence stopped him, so he just kept watching Glenanne as her and Lehard closed the trailer door. Reese was focused on Axe making friends with Bear and Lehard's Golden Retriever, while Finch looked over the scene visibly relieved that the horses were loaded.

.

With the horses finally on their way to a stable, Finch handed Glenanne the address for another of his safe-houses and led Ms. Lehard to his car.

"Alright, 'team without a name', I think we're done here and we could all use some rest. Ms. Glenanne, Mr. Weston and Mr. Axe will take the VW to another of my safe-houses. Ms. Lehard will ride with Mr. Reese and me."

Finch got an inscrutable look from Glenanne and poker-faces from Weston and Reese. They all did as they were told, though, even Westen who was impatient to be filled in on the details of the transaction that just took place. Westen did not take orders from just anyone. None of them did. But Westen felt compelled by the example Reese set to go along with Finch's orders.

Reese saw to it that the dogs and Ms. Lehard were comfortable in the back seat of the Lincoln. To his surprise, Finch got in the back seat with her, giving the passenger seat to Bear and leaving Reese to be their driver.

.

 

**Chapter 9: Two spies part ways**

 

"You're not with the police,” Ms. Lehard said when they reached the suburbs.

"No, we are not,” Finch admitted. "Let's just say we're a concerned third party. Could you tell me about the program that the people back at your house made you write for them?"

"How do you know they had me write a program?"

"The people who held you hostage - they're very dangerous. They are looking to do a lot of harm, and we are trying to prevent them from doing so. Please, it's important you tell me about your program."

She hesitated for a moment, but the friendly smile Finch succeeded in maintaining on his face, despite the long day he'd had, convinced her to answer his question.

"Okay. I write mostly firmware. They had me finish a code injection routine. I'm afraid it's not quite a kosher thing to do. I think they'll use it to inject arbitrary code into the operating system that will use the power supplies on which the firmware is installed."

"That's alright, like you said, we're not with the police. All I need to know is: were you able to finish it?"

"Yes, I finished it this morning."

“Excellent," Finch said to astonished looks from both Lehard and Reese.

"I'm not sure you understand. It's like a hardware virus!"

"Oh, I do understand that." Finch smiled. "It won't do any harm."

Finch and Lehard talked about the details of her program until they arrived at the large brick house where Westen and his friends were already waiting. The group of ex-operatives cleared the house in record time, despite it being one of the bigger ones in Finch's holdings, while Finch himself and Lehard waited in the lobby; Lehard still unsure of what to make of all this, and Finch looking almost smug. He was quite proud of the Machine and how it had arranged to bring Westen, Glenanne and the disk to them. He was also relieved that Lehard's code injection routine worked as he had anticipated, so that the program on the disk indeed would not cause any harm to the Machine.

All the pride that comes with the accomplishment of an overwhelming number of sometimes difficult tasks was visible on his face. Various pains in his body were the price he payed for the day's achievements.

When everyone was back in the lobby, he said: "I trust you can manage the assignment of bedrooms without me. I'll see you all tomorrow morning. A car will be here to pick you up at 9am."

He looked to Reese who in turn went to open the door for him and followed him out. Westen was too stunned and in too much pain himself to say something in time before the door closed behind them.

"Man, bring your mom up here, too, and we could have our own private field office,” was Sam's comment. "Those two would have us all dancing to their tune in no time." A look from Westen made him reconsider elaborating on his observation.

Glenanne grinned, then took Lehard to call the still shaken woman's mom.

.

**** Wednesday 01:55am**

Reese took the driver's side again and started the car as soon as Finch had settled into the passenger seat and closed the door. The older man leaned his stiff back against the leather seat, exhaled, and closed his eyes. He was well beyond the point where the pain in his back was limited to a few areas only, and now he could finally allow himself to relax.

"Harold?"

"Hmm?"

"Want to fill me in?"

"Can it wait until morning?"

"No, it really can't." Reese said softly. He was aware of his employer's - his friend's - physical state, but he had a responsibility to make sure what they had done earlier was right, and would not have unintended consequences.

"If it absolutely cannot wait: The disk contained information about very specific server hardware. Hardware that you would not use in this configuration today, unless you wanted to integrate it with a system roughly 7 years old."

"They're upgrading the Machine's servers." Reese guessed.

"That was my guess as well. As I said before, the code for the Machine cannot be accessed or altered in any way. The impending hardware additions offered a unique opportunity for whoever might want to control the Machine to introduce a kind of spyware that's hidden in the firmware of some of the components - the intelligent power supplies, to be precise. Much of the required code was also on the disk, just waiting to be installed on the hardware before it would be shipped. All it was missing was the injection routine, which would activate the code and integrate it with the Machine. Ms. Lehard provided that now, so I presume they don't need her anymore and she'll be safe."

"What about the Machine?"

"Oh, this could have been disastrous for the Machine. I subtly altered the code for the spyware though and rendered it harmless. I don't think the people behind it will notice my changes before initializing the server components with the code on the disk, certainly not if they are pressed for time. Westen stealing the disk must have caused them quite some delay."

"And once the components are installed, the time window is closed and there will be nothing they can do about it." Reese concluded.

"Not until the next upgrade, whenever that might be. Whoever was behind this, they are dangerous, and smart."

"So is the Machine, apparently."

A contorted grin fought its way onto Finch's face.

"So you think the Machine really was protecting itself. It arranged for Westen to find the disk and to bring it here."

"Yes, I think so."

"I didn't know the Machine could be so feisty." Reese said with a bit of teasing and a bit of respect in his voice.

Finch smiled briefly and leaned back into the car seat again.

Several surveillance cameras they passed saluted them with their red lights flashing briefly. Both of them noticed. Reese finally allowed himself to relax as well.

Reese was satisfied that the situation was under control, at least for now. When he thought of the empty library though, he felt like a stone was weighing down the pit of his stomach; a feeling he had the luxury to acknowledge, courtesy of the 'ex' in his status of 'ex-op'. He also realized that the circumstances around their need to give up the library were not as serious as they had originally thought. Maybe it was salvageable.

The events of the day taught him that even the loss of the library was not enough to upend his life again. Carter and Fusco were still there for him. Finch had not skipped a beat - he had been as reliable as ever. Reese just now realized that he had no clue how the older man had gotten so many things done in so little time and without the comfort of his library. It was good to know that he was surrounded by people he could rely on like that.

.

**** Wednesday 9:03 am**

"Hurry up in there, we're going to be late,” Glenanne half-yelled at the closed bathroom door.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming,” Axe said as he opened the door. "You're acting like he's your boss or something."

Westen walked into the hallway while adjusting the position of his tie. He looked twice but said nothing about Axe's brightly coloured, wild patterned shirt.

"Well, my mom is overjoyed that we found her friend's daughter. I didn't tell her about the exploding barn."

"Who _are_ you people, anyway?" Lehard was starting to process everything that had happened in the past couple of days.

"Oh we're just friends of a friend of your mom’s," Axe said jovially.

Lehard gave him a dubious look.

"Mrs. Westen's friends. I know, you said so last night. Most people don't have friends who blow up barns and whose bathroom is better stocked than the nearest medical clinic."

"Well what can I say. We're special."

"He's special alright,” Glenanne said, grinning at Axe, just before she snatched her handbag from the hall stand and dashed past them out the door.

.

**** Wednesday 9:40 am**

The car dropped them off at a park rather far outside the city. Westen was about to question the driver, when he saw the unmistakable forms of Finch, Reese and Bear by the water. He raised an eyebrow at his companions and they made their way across the dewy grass. Finch was opening bags filled with bagels and doughnuts and setting them on the picnic table next to several paper cups of coffee and a handful of yoghurt containers, under the watchful eyes of Bear, who could temporarily not decide whether the food or the newcomers interested him more. His interest in the canine companion to the approaching pack finally won out, and the two dogs ran off to play.

"So, what are we doing here?" Axe wanted to know.

"Post-mission debriefing,” Finch said. None of the ex-operatives were quite sure whether or not he was joking.

"In the park?" Axe asked.

Finch gave Axe's shirt a disapproving look.

"The temperature here is not always as agreeable as it is in Miami, but that should not stop us from getting some fresh air. Besides, you're not staying long; your plane leaves in two hours."

Finch handed Axe and Lehard a plane ticket each.

Reese handed out cups of steaming coffee. He noticed Westen staring, without really staring, at the yoghurt containers. Finch had been unclear about what the yoghurt was all about.

"Oh? Where are we going?" Axe asked, opening the ticket.

"You're taking Ms. Lehard back to Miami to stay with her family while her property is being renovated."

"I am?" he looked around to Westen who shrugged his shoulders.

"Who's renovating my property?" Lehard chimed in.

"Well, I know some people ... " Finch started.

"Say no more. I don't want to know."

"Can we at least have some breakfast before we go?" Axe was already reaching for a doughnut.

"That's why it's here, please help yourselves."

.

"So, do you have plans for us as well?" Westen inquired with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He was still preoccupied with the yoghurt.

"My plan right now is to have you eat some breakfast."

"Can't argue with yoghurt now can we?" Glenanne said. She sat down and both dogs sat next to her in anticipation. She broke a cream cheese bagel in half and gave a piece to each dog. Reese wondered how in the heck the dogs always knew who the right person to beg from was.

They ate and made small-talk, mostly for Lehard's benefit, until it was time for Axe and Lehard to leave. Westen and Glenanne walked them to the car. Finch remained sitting at the table and Reese stayed with him.

"How many painkillers have you had this morning?" Reese asked, a smirk on his face.

Finch turned and looked at him questioningly.

"You're not usually that well-versed in small-talk,” Reese explained.

"There are still _many_ things about me you don't know about, Mr. Reese."

"Yet, you know all about us." Reese gave one of the yoghurt containers a nudge.

"That has always been the arrangement."

.

They abandoned their banter. The car had left and Westen and Glenanne were back at the table.

"Alright, what was on the disk?" Westen demanded.

"The disk contained a computer virus that would have given the wrong people unprecedented access to a large surveillance network. I rendered the virus useless."

"What do you think the 'wrong people' will do, when they find out?"

"There's nothing that they _can_ do. By the time they realize that the virus did not work, their time window for deploying the virus will have passed, and they will never know why it did not work as designed. I don't think they'll come after you again."

Westen looked at Reese, whose face was expressionless. Reese was not going to let his face give away the fact that this was not the whole story. He also realized, again, how good Finch was at leaving out the juicy bits. An expert manager of the flow of information.

"It's our lives on the line if they do."

"All they wanted was the disk. They know _you'd_ never have been able to change the code on it, and it will pass any tests they might subject it to before deployment. They will have no reason to go after you.

I will also look into your burn notice. Maybe I can come up with something that will help you run down the last of the members of the organization that had you burned, before they can come after you."

"I still don't know who made those calls to the public phones."

"I'm afraid I can't help you with that."

"You don't know who is providing you those SINs?" Westen thought he had been more than patient thus far. The evasive answers were upsetting him and his mood became darker.

"I don't think you'll be getting any more of them, if that's what you're worried about."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's all I can say."

Finch's voice had a finality to it, and Glenanne recognized the determined look on Westen's face. She was disappointed that the people she had come to trust so easily were suddenly so secretive again, but she did not want the situation to escalate, either. She touched Westen's arm.

"Let's go,” she said.

He kept the determined stare on Finch a while longer, then suddenly got up and walked toward the exit of the park.

Glenanne looked after him and then back at Reese and Finch. Finch gave her a helpless but determined look. She fed Bear the remaining part of the doughnut she had been eating and left after Westen.

.

"I thought you might offer them a job,” Reese said when they were out of earshot.

"Do you miss having colleagues?" Finch turned and looked at him with interest.

Reese shrugged. He was still watching the two retreating figures.

"You made a good team yesterday. The Machine obviously likes them. Should their situation change, I would not mind asking them to work with us. For now they have their own agenda. They are not like us. They still have families, loved ones. Besides, I have a feeling our paths might cross again. For now: the less they know about the Machine, the better."

Reese couldn't agree more.

.

**** 6:00 pm**

Westen and Glenanne closed in on the airport check-in counter after spending part of the day doing actual sightseeing. They spotted Finch and Reese on their way to the gate. Glenanne was the one who walked up to them, and Westen grudgingly followed her. Finch struggled to his feet.

"Ms. Glenanne. I had meant to give you this in the park this morning. A souvenir from New York."

He handed her a large plastic bag. In it was a shoe box, which made Glenanne flinch inwardly a little - shoe boxes, outside of shoe stores, did not usually hold pleasant things in her world. But in this box she found the pair of very expensive shoes that she had tried on but had decided she couldn't really afford.

"I can't possibly accept these,” she said.

"Then consider them payment for bringing me the disk."

Westen was unimpressed by a gesture so obviously meant to buy back their goodwill.

"I realize that this does not make up for the disappointment you may feel concerning the amount of information obtained on your trip, but I hope it will make you remember the trip here in a little better light, at least." Finch said, as if in response to Westen's thoughts.

Glenanne did not, in the end, care about the shoes. They made her happy, but she did not sell her soul for a pair of shoes. It was the thoughtfulness of the gesture that touched her. Not just the gift; the two of them did not have to come to the airport to see them off. In fact, if they were at all like some of the operatives she had met, they would not have. Maybe they did have a good reason to not divulge more information than they had.

"Mr. Westen. I'm sorry I was not able to satisfy your curiosity to the extent you had hoped. All I can hope is that you will believe me when I say that you bringing the disk here will ensure that many lives are saved.

If I learn anything concerning your burn notice, or the people who burned you, I will let you know. And if either of you are ever looking for a job, don't hesitate to contact me."

He handed business cards with nothing but a name and a phone number on them to Glenanne and Westen.

Reese was standing just behind and to the side of Finch. Westen looked at him after putting the card in his inside west pocket. It was the first time Reese looked back openly, without the mask, without pretending and without trying to hide his state of mind. Westen dropped his mask as well, just for a moment before turning to walk away.

"If you're ever in Miami, look us up." Glenanne said, then turned and disappeared into the crowd of travellers herself.

.

**** Two weeks later**

Reese carried the last box of files and equipment up the library stairs. Water was dripping from his hair; evidence of the rain that was drumming quietly on the building's roof and windows. He found Bear's ball on top of the box and threw it down the hallway for the dog to chase. Bear knocked over a pile of documents that Finch was about to pin back onto the board.

"Do you want to get lunch?" Reese asked once he arrived in the main chamber.

"No, go ahead without me."

Finch did not even look at him, he was so engulfed in recreating his board of numbers.

Reese stood there for several minutes, watching Finch carefully handle the pictures and newspaper clippings. Narrow beams of light shone through gaps in the drifting clouds and made it look like an ensemble of shadows was dancing slowly across the library floor.

Finch finally turned around.

"You're still here." 

Reese wasn't sure what to say.

"You agreed that it was safe to come back here,” Finch continued, guessing as to the reason for his employee's reluctance to leave.

A hint of worry was only partially to blame for Reese's hesitation. He was standing there feeling unexpected relief. To be re-claiming this space, to watch it come back to normal; he was savouring the moment. He smiled and lifted a new computer tower onto the desk.

"I'll get lunch later."

.

 

There, I had them out to play and put them all back neat and tidy, the way I found them, just like they teach in Kindergarden. :)

Wow, this ended up quite a big longer than I had anticipated. Thanks for sticking with me to the end, I hope you enjoyed it. Don't be shy to leave a review.


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